


A Dream Without End

by Fluffifullness



Series: Somnolence [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Amnesia, Angst and Feels, Falling In Love, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Not Happy, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Tropes, Unrequited Love, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, amnesiac!Shizuo, sick!Shizuo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffifullness/pseuds/Fluffifullness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Indeed, coincidence has a lot to do with the transformation of minor incidents into large ones, into cataclysmic chains of events that destroy the status quo and disrupt even the most chaotic of cities. Even one as calculating and aloof as Orihara Izaya may be capable of largely irrational actions – try as he might, as he would, to justify everything he would do from that point on...."</p><p>Shizuo with amnesia, plus further complications. What's a sociopathic informant to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have this entire fic already typed up. I will update bit by bit - or maybe I'll just break down and throw the whole thing on here. The whole story amounts to around 14,000 words. I hope you like! The original point of writing this was... well, I just suddenly wanted to try an amnesia fic, because I've actually never written one for any fandom. That I can recall, anyway. (Ha. Ha. Ha.)
> 
> I always forget disclaimers... (It's obvious, so why even bother...?) Well, I do not own the characters or the universe. Satisfied? I think so. Have fun reading!

It was nearly midnight, and the streets of Ikebukuro were only marginally less crowded than they would have been around the dinner hour. Had one stopped to listen, it might have even been possible to distinguish the horse-like roar of a black motorbike speeding back to a certain doctor’s apartment or the jeering voices of the city’s youngsters making trouble in dark alleys. A young couple, one with a scar on her neck and the other harboring a deep, obsessive love for an inhuman thing, sat on a bench and only gradually started to talk of returning home. More conscientious individuals were starting to drift off to sleep after finally logging off of the Dollars’ forum; it was a weeknight, and the group’s founder was still tied closely enough to normalcy that he could consider the need to sleep before school the next day.

Orihara Izaya knew much of these goings-on, reveled in them, as he traversed the city on foot. For all of the control he exercised over it, however, he was as much a part of it, a fragment of the sweeping dreamscape, as any one of his beloved humans.

Tonight, the informant was merely wandering with no particular tasks to complete. He sought only amusement at the probable expense of some poor individual. All he needed was some small occurrence – given the opportunity, he could draw out its potential to create a cascading sequence of events that would again throw Ikebukuro into chaos.

He loved chaos. Humans were at their best in places like this, big cities where secret conspiracies, hidden threats, and elastic tensions kept everything right on the edge of chaos. Chaos brought out the most interesting aspects of people. It made them crazy, reduced them to their basest impulses.

He let the city’s currents carry him where they would. Curious, he followed the sound of one particularly violent scuffle and arrived just in time to glimpse a group of young men hurriedly escaping the echo of his footsteps. Small fry, the informant figured. Better make your getaway before the cops find you and your parents chew you out…

But Izaya was also curious as to the identity of their victim. He casually approached the darkest part of the alley and was gradually able to make out the vague outline of someone lying on the rain-slick ground. The informant immediately judged the person to be a man based on his height and build.

Interesting. He’d hoped to find a teenage girl – their reactions were often particularly fascinating – but there was always a chance that your standard mugging could turn into something interesting. He was there already, anyway. Might as well check it out.

“Let’s see who it is,” Izaya hummed to himself as he whipped out his cell phone and pushed the center button to ignite the display.

The ragged figure’s blood-soaked blonde hair glistened in the sudden flash of bright blue light. His normally neat bartender uniform was streaked with dirt and blood, and although he was lying face-down on his stomach, Izaya could tell that Shizuo Heiwajima was very much unconscious.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya marveled. He knelt at the side of his sworn enemy and used one hand to shove him roughly onto his back.

The blonde’s face, like his clothing, was coated in a layer of dirt and gravel. His eyes were closed, and a thin stream of blood was running from the corner of his mouth. Izaya glanced down and noticed with a start that Shizuo had been shot twice – once in his left side and again in the chest. This and a heavy blow to his head seemed to be the source of the red stains on his clothes and hair.

“You won’t last long with wounds like those, Shizu-chan.” The informant poked at the blonde’s cheek. “Don’t be so boring. I want you to see me while you slowly bleed to death.”

The informant didn’t cease his efforts to wake Shizuo until at last the blonde stirred a little and opened his eyes. “Nnnn… Wha’s goin’ on…?” he slurred as his eyes gradually focused on Izaya. “You…”

“Nice to finally see you awake, Shizu-chan! Looks like your troublemaking has finally caught up with you, huh~?”

“Shizu…chan?” The blonde’s eyes filled with confusion and a dawning realization. “…’s that my name?”

“Very funny,” Izaya said with a smirk. “But amnesia wouldn’t be enough to make me pity you, anyway.”

“Amnesia… Yeah, that must be it. My head feels all funny…” Shizuo looked searchingly up at the informant. “You… seem familiar somehow… Are you a friend…? D-doesn’t seem like it…” He laughed shakily. “Shit… this really hurts…”

Izaya’s eyes widened, and his smirk was replaced by an expression of disbelief. “You… really don’t remember anything?” He scowled. “Jeez, it’s like something out of a manga.”

Indeed, coincidence has a lot to do with the transformation of minor incidents into large ones, into cataclysmic chains of events that destroy the status quo and disrupt even the most chaotic of cities. Even one as calculating and aloof as Orihara Izaya may be capable of largely irrational actions – try as he might, as he would, to justify everything he would do from that point on.

The informant straightened up and moved away from the blonde, phone in hand as he dialed Shinra’s number.

“Shinra? It’s me. “

A pause.

“A favor. Could you come meet me? There’s someone here who needs a doctor as soon as possible.”

Another pause, then – “At least two bullet wounds and a pretty nasty-looking head injury. Yeah. Yes, it’s that bad.”

After he had finished relating his location to the doctor, Izaya disconnected the call and returned to Shizuo’s side with an exasperated sigh. He whipped out his knife, and Shizuo flinched a little as his clothes were neatly cut away. The informant then tugged off his fur-lined coat and hurriedly pressed it into the blonde’s wounds.

“Ne… what’s your name?” Shizuo whispered.

“Stop talking,” Izaya hissed, his expression now a volatile mixture of anger and determination.

“Can’t… I’m not supposed to sleep after getting hit like this, right?”

“If you know that much, why can’t you at least remember your own name?” Izaya grumbled sulkily.

“You called me Shizu-chan earlier,” the blonde reminded the informant. “I thought you must be someone I know really well, since you’re using a nickname like that.”

“Shizu-chan hates his nickname,” Izaya answered vaguely as he laughed softly to himself. “So, how about this? I’ll tell you some things about yourself, and you’ll listen quietly – _no talking_.” He emphasized the last part of his offer with a glare that warned Shizuo to keep his response to a minimum.

“Sure…” Shizuo said softly, and Izaya sighed. The hell was he doing? Why couldn’t the stupid monster just pretend he knew what was going on so that the informant might fully enjoy his suffering? He considered telling said monster some sort of lie – something that might afford Izaya a few laughs later on, when Shizuo realized his mistake and flew into another one of his outrageous tantrums.

He didn’t, though. Perhaps he merely felt like showing off a little; after all, Izaya’s knowledge of Ikebukuro’s “Fortissimo” was second to none – excepting, perhaps, Shizuo’s immediate family.

“Your full name is Heiwajima Shizuo. You’re 185 cm tall, weigh approximately 70 kg, and have a birthday coming up on January 28th. You’re 24 years old now, and you have a younger brother, Heiwajima Kasuka, who goes by the stage name Hanejima Yuuhei. Tanaka Tom-san, your sempai from middle school, now works as a debt collector and employs you as his bodyguard. The idea was supposed to be that your reputation alone would be enough to prevent violence on the job, but your ridiculous temper and monstrous strength are constantly causing trouble for everyone around you.”

“That’s… a lot to take in,” Shizuo murmured. His vision was blurring a little at the edges, and he was afraid that he might not be able to stay awake for much longer. “You didn’t say anything about yourself...”

“Oi, Shizu-chan. I said not to talk,” Izaya almost growled as he continued to increase the amount of pressure he was applying to the blonde’s chest. “And what does that matter, anyway…?”

“Well, nothing you just said makes any sense to me, and I honestly don’t know if you’re even telling the truth. I don’t remember anything at all about you, but you’re someone I unmistakably know,” Shizuo said. His voice grew stronger the longer he talked, and he watched Izaya with eyes full of curiosity.

“Izaya.”

“Eh?”

“My name is Orihara Izaya. I work as an information broker in Shinjuku and Ikebukuro. Do you know where that is?”

“Ike…bukuro… Mm, I think so. That’s this city, right? I think it must be a pretty amazing place… or something.” Shizuo smiled, a little embarrassed to have been caught saying something so sentimental.

Izaya smirked. “Right. Well, you and I often fight here. Always demanding that I leave… you’re so harsh sometimes! It’s your fault for being so easy to provoke. And how can I resist provoking Shizu-chan? After all, you’re not fun or interesting at all if I can’t play with you sometimes. Because Shizu-chan constantly gets in my way whenever I try to stir things up! It’s so incredibly annoying!”

Blinking, Shizuo said slowly, “It sounds like you’re sort of the bad guy here… What do you mean by ‘fun’?”

The informant laughed. “I mean that I love watching and manipulating people for my own edification. Of course, I’m what some might consider a disgusting or twisted person. I don’t mind at all, though. In fact, I think it’s even more fun to fool others into thinking that I’m something different. You see, Shizu-chan, I love all humans! All of them! You’re the only one I hate – a beast who embodies nothing more than pure rage and violence! I can’t have fun using you because you somehow always manage to escape the roles I lay out for you.”

Shizuo laughed softly. “That’s a strange reason to hate someone. And I’m supposed to feel the same way about you?”

 “Well, your feelings are probably far simpler, but that’s how it is.” A motorbike roared suddenly somewhere nearby. Izaya smiled and looked toward the end of the alley as a black bike with two riders atop it sped around a corner and toward the two men. “Looks like our conversation stops there, Shizu-chan.”

“Izaya, we came as fast as we c- Shizuo-kun?!” Shinra, who had just dismounted the bike, looked wordlessly back at Celty, who immediately understood and passed him his bag of medical supplies. The two quickly joined the informant on the ground.

“Yo…” Shizuo said awkwardly. His eyes felt so heavy that he could barely keep them open enough to see the faces of these new people.

“Shizuo-kun, can you tell me where it hurts the most?” the doctor asked desperately as he took the blood-soaked jacket from Izaya and quickly fished several surgical tools from his bag.

“That,” Shizuo said, wincing. “And my head hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m going to take a look at that in a second, so can you please do whatever it takes to stay awake?”

“S-sure. Talking okay?”

Shinra nodded as he set to started to search for the first of the two bullets in the dim lighting.

Shizuo turned his attention to the informant, who was still watching him intently. “Izaya-san.”

Upon hearing this formal honorific used together with the name of Shizuo’s hated enemy, Shinra and Celty both glanced up at the blonde in surprise.

“Yeah?” Izaya responded casually.

“Thanks. You talk like you’re a bad person, but I think you must really be good to some extent. I owe you one.”

Izaya laughed. “There’s one thing I never would have expected to hear from Shizu-chan. Too bad, though – I think most people would disagree with you.”

“Shizuo-kun…? What are you saying all of a sudden?” Shinra asked as he located the first bullet and removed it carefully from the blonde’s side.

“Huh? Oh-! I’m sorry, I didn’t… I mean, I can’t remember anything, so if you know me… Well, I’m still trying to figure all this out for the time being.”

“Eh?” Shinra looked as if he thought Shizuo might have been joking.

Celty pushed her PDA at Shizuo, her hand shaking slightly. _You can’t remember yourself, either? Not even a little?_

“I can’t… Um, is there a reason you can’t speak to me directly?”

Celty and Shinra exchanged a glance. After a moment, Shinra nodded, and the dullahan tilted back the visor of her helmet so that Shizuo could see inside.

She had half-expected him to react with terror, but his eyes only widened slightly. “Wow… What are you?”

_A friend of yours._

 

Shinra found the second bullet soon after the first and did his best to plug the wounds up as quickly and painlessly as possible.

“How many fingers am I holding up

?” he asked Shizuo as he used his free hand to gently probe the blonde’s scalp.

“Three… four…?” Shizuo winced as the doctor inadvertently touched a sensitive spot. “Ow…”

“Two.” Shinra frowned and looked up at Izaya. “I assumed you would know what to do with this sort of injury, but I need to double-check. When you found him, you didn’t move him at all, did you?”

Izaya grinned sheepishly. “Well, you know…”

“What, so you’re saying you _did?_ What would you have done if his spinal cord had been hurt?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t really planning on helping Shizu-chan anyway, so I didn’t bother to think about it. Besides, I seem to recall hearing somewhere that you’re also not supposed to let patients talk until they’ve been treated properly,” Izaya retorted.

“Yeah? Then, is that what you were doing when we got here?!”

“W-wait. I was the one who refused to stop talking,” Shizuo cut in. “Izaya-san kept insisting that I be quiet, but I… I have a lot of things to ask…”

“That’s enough. You don’t have to force yourself to defend this guy so much,” Shinra said gently. Izaya watched in complete bewilderment as the blonde shook his head slightly and mumbled a response.

“He didn’t do anything wrong. He only helped me.”

“…Huh,” the informant stated blandly. “Well, he’s moving enough, right? Guess the spine thing is kind of a moot point.”

Shinra nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right. And it looks like the injury to his skull is fairly minor considering the damage it’s done to his brain. Retrograde amnesia like this usually doesn’t encompass all of a person’s past memories, after all. According to Ribot’s Law, you’re much likelier to suffer the loss of more recent memories; those dating back to one’s childhood years typically survive. You could say that Shizuo-kun has been lucky here – he won’t even need stitches, and the bullets both missed all of his major organs – but he was also unfortunate enough to wind up with severe memory loss by sheer chance.”

“Are you just going to sit there and ramble all night, or are we going to go someplace a little more comfortable?” Shizuo grumbled. He reached up and placed his hand on Izaya’s shoulder. The informant jumped a little and tried to shrug away, but stopped when he noticed that he was serving as the blonde’s support as he dragged himself into a sitting position. “Ngh… Damn…” Shizuo winced and leaned heavily into Celty’s arms when the dullahan moved in to help. “This really sucks,” he complained, voice wavering slightly.

“You’re amazing, Shizuo-kun. A normal person would probably be unconscious after losing that much blood…” Shinra straightened up, and Izaya quickly followed suit, cell phone in hand.

The informant then called a reluctant Namie to come with her car, Celty climbed onto her horse, and the group found itself in front of Shizuo’s apartment building within the hour.

 “So, what are you going to do now?” Izaya sighed when his assistant turned off the car’s engine.

The blonde looked back at the informant, eyes wide. “With what?”

“Well, you’re not seriously planning to stay alone, are you? You can barely stand without help, let alone fix meals or change those bandages. Who do you want to stay with you?”

“Izaya, are you saying you’d really be willing to stay here with – ” But the informant clapped a hand over Shinra’s mouth to silence him.

“So?” he prompted Shizuo impatiently.

“I really don’t think I need to bother anyone with this,” Shizuo said shyly. To prove his point, he swung the car door open and, using the car’s roof for support, pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. His legs gave out in a few seconds, however, and Celty had to catch him with her shadows before he hit the ground. “…”

“Yeah, looks like you’ll be totally fine on your own,” Izaya remarked sarcastically.

“He has a point, Shizuo-kun. Besides, you’ll need to be closely monitored for at least twenty-four hours to ensure that your head injury isn’t more severe than we think it is.”

“F-fine. Izaya-san, could you…? If it’s – you know – not too much trouble…”

Izaya smirked and helped the blonde to his feet. “Shizu-chan, you’re so timid all of a sudden. But are you sure you want me to stick around knowing how we usually get along?”

Shizuo nodded and cringed when his head throbbed painfully in response to the movement. “It has to be you,” he insisted.

Shinra looked from one to the other of his two friends. “Shizuo-kun, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. If you were to suddenly recover your memories of Izaya with him around, there’s a good chance you might have to find yourself a new apartment. And, depending on the circumstances, one of you might – ”

“Look, it’s okay. I promise… no matter what, I won’t… I don’t know, attack Izaya-san, or whatever it is you expect me to do.”

“Celty… say something…” Shinra begged. The dullahan’s shoulders moved up and down in a gesture that greatly resembled a sigh, and she quickly typed something into her PDA before showing it to Shizuo.

_He once framed you for a crime to get himself out of trouble, and you lost an important job because of it. He also constantly manipulates gangs and other bad people into trying to fight with you. Of course, that’s when you two aren’t going at it one-on-one. His personality is beyond twisted._

Shizuo shrugged. “Why are you telling me all this?” His voice had taken on that familiar tone of irritation which usually served as a precursor to extreme violence. “I can’t remember any of it, so why should I bother thinking so hard about it? I’m just doing what I want to do, and I honestly hope that I have enough self-control to keep my promise. Or am I really that unreasonable a person?”

Izaya nodded and laughed, but Shinra prevented him from saying anything by cutting in abruptly. “Okay. If you can be told all of this and still feel that strongly, then no one will try to stop you. Just calm down, alright?”

Shizuo shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “Tch… S-sorry. I just…”

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “I know, and it’s fine. For now, though, we really should get you inside and in bed. You don’t look good.”

“That would be nice,” Izaya called from the bottom of the apartment’s main flight of stairs. “I’d rather not stand here with this all night long.”

Shinra noticed the overnight bag in the informant’s hands and jogged over to meet him. “How do you already have that ready?” he demanded.

“I always prepare for all possible outcomes, and the way things were going, I figured I might need to be ready for things to turn out like this. I keep one ready most of the time just in case, so it was as simple as having Namie-san bring it here with her.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really happens, but it's fluffy and cute and I thought how about I try for some early foreshadowing? Let's hope it's actually that subtle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, about the first chapter. I mentioned this so-called "Ribot's Law" and some other medical nonsense that made it sound like I knew what I was talking about. That came from Wikipedia. I should have mentioned it then, but it kind of slipped my mind when I was doing the chapter notes.
> 
> And you thought I made it up...

It was already well past two in the morning when Shinra and Celty finally left the apartment. The doctor had insisted on giving Shizuo another once-over and had then proceeded to painstakingly clean and bandage the wound on the blonde’s head. It had taken an obscenely large amount of time.

Then, noticing that the blonde was a bit warmer than seemed possible after so much blood loss, he had suggested that Shizuo might also have a fever. The precautionary medication – _not_ anti-inflammatory, Shinra had been sure to point out – as well as a list of instructions for Izaya were sitting on the counter in Shizuo’s small kitchen.

 _“Make sure he stays conscious for a while longer, and then remember to wake him up at least every two hours to check for basic signs of swelling or internal hemorrhage.”_ Those signs, along with other information and, knowing Shinra, useless medical facts, had been included in the list he’d left behind.

When a drowsy Shizuo had asked him when he might be able to recover his memory, the doctor’s response had been: _“Ah, that. In most cases, patients experience spontaneous recovery after a short while. It might come in bits and pieces or all at once, but I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. There’s no need to rush, is there?”_

Now, Shizuo was stretched out on his bed, his brown eyes fixed on the informant in an expression that could only be described as pleading. “Ne, Izaya-san. How much longer do I have to stay awake?”

“Dunno. Until I’m satisfied that you’re not gonna start bleeding from your ears or something, I guess. Is there something you’d like to do to pass the time?”

Shizuo sighed as his eyes gradually glazed over with exhaustion. “I really… really just want to sleep…”

Izaya jumped onto the bed beside Shizuo, startling the blonde enough to prevent him from completely passing out. “I don’t think so, Shizu-chan. Besides, can you really sleep? You haven’t been given any painkillers, right?”

“It hurts, but not as much as… as it should. Like my body’s already sorta… used to this kind of thing…”

“It probably is. Shinra told me once that you wound up getting hurt pretty often when you were little. That was before your body was able to handle the stress of being made to lift vending machines and the like.” Izaya let himself fall back so that he was lying next Shizuo on the bed. The blonde looked at him with an expression of mild surprise. “Must have been hard on your parents, dealing with a kid who made trouble and got hurt all the time.”

Izaya was unable to gauge whether his statement had managed to anger the blonde, however, because Shizuo’s cell phone chose that moment to ring.

 Startled by the noise, Shizuo hastily pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. He glanced questioningly at Izaya, who rolled over and looked at the caller ID.

“Oh, it’s just Tanaka-san. Why not answer it?”

“But what do I-”

_“Hello? Shizuo? Are you awake…?”_

“Oh! T-Tom-san, hi…!” Shizuo said haltingly into the receiver while Izaya smothered his laughter.

_“Hey, man. I figured you must be sick or something since you didn’t meet me for work earlier, and I happened to be thinking of it just now, so I thought I’d call to check up on you. Doing okay?”_

“I-I… ah, yes! Um, I mean…” Shizuo looked to Izaya for help. “Uh… Well, it’s pretty early, right?”

_“Ah, yeah, sorry about that. I just figured that if you were sick enough to miss work you’d probably be awake on and off all night anyway.”_

“Oh. Y-yeah, I guess I have… or something…”

_“Uh, seriously, are you alright? You’re acting weird.”_

“Actually-” Shizuo started, but Izaya grabbed the phone from him with one swift motion.

“Shizu-chan is having a bit of a hard time at the moment. He was hit pretty hard earlier and can’t seem to remember much about himself,” the informant said casually to Tom.

_“Orihara Izaya-kun…? Are you saying Shizuo has amnesia?”_

“Well, that’s just a part of the problem, but yeah. He was jumped by a couple of juvenile delinquents while doing god knows what in the middle of the night. Oh, he seems to have a bad fever, too… Have you noticed him acting at all weird lately?”

_“Well, now that you mention it… Yeah, I guess he’s been a little odd. I thought he might have been depressed about something, but he wasn’t any more… you know, temperamental than usual. Actually, he was a little less…”_

“For how long?”

Shizuo watched Izaya’s expression carefully for something that might provide some hint about Tom’s responses, but the informant maintained an outwardly apathetic appearance despite the almost-genuine concern in his voice.

_“…Maybe a couple of weeks by now… Could you give the phone back to Shizuo, please?”_

“Of course~! I just couldn’t stand to listen to this guy stumbling over his words anymore!” Izaya said with a little grin as he passed the phone back to the blonde.

“Um, so… There you have it, I guess,” Shizuo said immediately.

Tom laughed. _“Guess so.”_ There was an awkward moment of silence between the two before the debt collector finally spoke again. _“I’m sorry about this, Shizuo. You probably don’t have any idea what I’m talking about right now, but when you can remember, please forgive me. I should have done something more when I noticed that you were acting a tad off. You don’t need to worry about work, alright? I’ll explain things to the boss, so you can just focus on getting back on your feet.”_

“Thank you. I appreciate it, and… uh, I don’t think any of this was your fault, so please don’t say things like that, okay?”

_“…You really are a nice person, aren’t you? Oh, yeah – there’s one more thing I need to be sure of – would you mind telling me how you wound up staying with that guy?”_

“Izaya-san? I asked him to.” Sensing the mood of the person on the other end of the line, Shizuo smiled and added, “It’s fine. I know all of that. I trust him, anyway, and I want to be near him.” Noticing too late that Izaya was watching him amusedly, the blonde flushed slightly and averted his eyes again.

_“That’s… unexpected, to say the least. I guess it’s fine, though, just as long as you decided for yourself. Talk to you later, then.”_

“Y-yeah. Later,” Shizuo said as the call ended with a little beep. He turned to Izaya. “He’s a nice person, huh? How long have we known each other?”

“Since middle school. I’m not particularly interested in him, though, so I can’t tell you much more than that.”

“Thought you were supposed to know everything about me?”

“What do you take me for, some kind of stalker? Besides, I’m not used to giving away so much free information in a single day.”

“So you _do_ know more,” Shizuo muttered. A shudder suddenly ran through his body, and his hand flew to his mouth. “Ugh…”

“…Shizu-chan?” Izaya looked curiously at the blonde. “What’s with you?”

Shizuo couldn’t answer for a moment. He was now doubled over on the bed with one arm wrapped tightly around his midsection. “H-hurts…”

It took Izaya maybe two seconds to process this, find a wastebasket, and shove it at the blonde. Shizuo gagged and retched into it, but his stomach produced only a thin stream of bile.

When it seemed that the worst had passed, Izaya set the container aside and put a hand on the blonde’s forehead. “Seems like you’re temperature’s gone up a bit… Maybe I should call Shinra.”

Shizuo caught the edge of Izaya’s black V-neck and held him with a gaze that was, again, almost pleading. “Don’t. It’s just a fever.”

Izaya sighed and sat back down. “You’re like a little kid, Shizu-chan. It’s obvious that you just don’t want to be left alone like that.” He paused, finding that his teasing didn’t suit the situation, and watched with a bored expression on his face as Shizuo gradually caught his breath. “I guess you’re really sicker than we thought. Maybe it escaped Shinra’s notice for so long because you’d lost too much blood to be super warm to the touch. You know, they actually used to treat fevers using that kind of method?”

“Like I care,” Shizuo muttered as the nausea receded.

Izaya smirked. “I wouldn’t expect a protozoan like Shizu-chan to appreciate history, anyway.”

Shizuo glared back at the informant, but his strength was fading fast and he was forced to drop the belligerent attitude yet again. “…It hurts. I really need to sleep,” he mumbled.

Izaya glanced at the clock on the opposite wall and sighed. “Guess there’s no helping it. Come on, you should at least change your clothes first.” He left the bed to rifle through the drawers of Shizuo’s dresser – one of few articles of furniture in the small room. He soon found a pair of black sweats and a plain white T-shirt.

Tossing these to Shizuo, he zipped open his own bag and pulled out a similar set of clothes for himself.

“You really like black, don’t you?” Shizuo said quietly, nodding at the shirt that Izaya was presently pulling over his head.

“It’s not that I particularly like it, although it is useful when I have to blend in at night.” The informant grinned at how cheesy his statement sounded, but his companion didn’t appear to share his amusement. “Of course, this just happens to be what I packed a while ago, so it’s nothing more than a simple coincidence.”

“Still, it’s like we’re total opposites or something…” Shizuo mused as he tugged at the whit fabric of his own T-shirt. _That_ made him smile, for some reason, and he added, “Just kidding.”

“Really? It’s actually a pretty accurate statement, for something said by Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo looked pensive for a moment. “Izaya-san, did you by any chance make up your mind about me before we had the chance to get to know each other?”

“Well… you’re right to a point, since I was able to form some conclusions about you before testing them out in person. How’d you guess?”

 _Huh. It’s like interactions with other people are just science experiments to him…_ This was what Shizuo thought to himself, but of course saying something like that would get him nowhere.

Instead, he paused to give the issue some thought before explaining, “Because a person wouldn’t normally hate someone else as much as you claim to hate me before they tried to find some common interests or traits or… you know. I mean, you could usually say that we have _something_ in common between us, even if it’s nothing big. So, if you just relied on outside sources to find out about me, didn’t you also miss the chance to change those preconceptions? We could have been friends if things had gone a little differently – right?”

Izaya whistled. “Nice speech, Shizu-chan. Did you get it all out of your system?”

“I’m serious,” the blonde insisted.

“You wouldn’t be if you _really_ remembered how things are between us most of the time. Besides, ‘getting to know’ Shizu-chan is pointless anyway because most of the time you’d like nothing better than to bash my head in, and right now you’re just an empty shell.”

“It’s not pointless! At the very least, if I can see more of the good part of you now, then when I remember all the bad it won’t be so impossible to overcome it.” The blonde could feel his face heating up as he said this; he knew implicitly, after all, that these were not things he’d usually even dream of saying, but somehow the thoughts felt fresh and reasonable. It was difficult to put into words, but he couldn’t quite resist the urge to try.

At the very least, he couldn’t have had much to lose – the man he was talking to hated him, or claimed to at least, and anything too embarrassing could be forgiven and forgotten as unavoidable symptoms of his amnesia.

“I’m sure it will. Or in the best case scenario, you’ll just wind up feeling _tragically_ lost and confused when all’s said and done,” Izaya responded dramatically with his hand already on the doorknob.

“Hold on,” Shizuo said, half-desperate despite his own reassurances to himself.  He scrambled unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily on his IV stand for support.

“Come on, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said impatiently. “This conversation is already over. You keep saying you’re tired, so why not go to sleep?”

“Stay here.”

“What?”

“In this room, with me. Just… for a little while.” Shizuo’s face flushed slightly as he carefully avoided meeting the informant’s perplexed gaze with his own.

Izaya’s response was immediate, however, and laden with a tickled sort of incredulity that had the blonde lowering his head self-consciously. “No way… Were you actually going to ask me to stay with you until you fall asleep? That’s so cute, Shizu-chan!”

“I wasn’t!” he said after a moment. “Forget I said anything!” He lowered himself clumsily back onto the bed, turned so that his back was to Izaya, and sighed softly when the lights clicked off and the door shut.

What had he been thinking, asking something like that of Izaya? He couldn’t honestly expect the informant to respond to the emotions of an amnesiac. Those feelings were too dubious, too much a part of the gray area between concrete thought and vague sensation. Even Shizuo wasn’t entirely certain as to how they had come about, whether he could accurately pin a name on them or act on them with confidence.

They were strong, though. Evanescent, but growing stronger and possibly more concrete. He could tell already, and it concerned him a little because it went against everything he had been told so far, every impression he had gathered. Was it something hidden, something he’d been burying inside himself for a long time? Or maybe he hadn’t really been aware of it before, either.

He’d pick that scenario, of course, over the one in which he _felt_ without being informed by memories or tangible realities. That, as Izaya had said, could only leave him confused and irrevocably changed, with no option for pursuing what he loved and hated at the same time.

It was a lot to think about, a lot of concern to add to the anxiety of not knowing one’s own identity. He could think about it in the morning, he thought, and then the silence of the room was broken by a whisper.

“Honestly, so high maintenance…”

Shizuo jumped and blinked in the near-perfect darkness, struggling to make out the vague outline of the informant as he climbed into bed beside him. “I-I thought you were-“

“I’ll humor you just this once, alright? It might be worth seeing your annoyed reaction when you realize what a fool you’ve made of yourself.” Izaya snuggled closer to the blonde, who could feel his pulse hammering at the sudden closeness. “Besides, Shizu-chan is so cute and warm right now…”

Cute? It didn’t seem an accurate description, but…

Shizuo could see no reason to complain. “Thanks.”

“I’ll have you take full responsibility if I get sick because of this.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shizuo's still sick, Izaya's not still as much of a jerk as usual, and Kasuka shows up to add another layer of icing to the cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been changing things quite a bit in each chapter as I upload this bit by bit, so if anything winds up at all inconsistent, I apologize.
> 
> I just joined the trope bingo contest on dreamwidth ('Amnesia' isn't on my card, I'm afraid.), so I /might/ be updating this story just a little less frequently. Or not. It depends on a lot of things, actually.

“…so that’s how it is right now,” Izaya said to Shinra over the phone the next morning. He had just finished explaining the events of the past night where they had any possible relevance to the blonde’s current condition, and the other party was clearly bothered by the news.

_“I see… Well, I’m honestly worried about this, so I’ll come by later today to check up on him again. Still, we may wind up learning more from him directly when he can remember everything.”_

“You think he’s already been to see a doctor, don’t you?” Izaya sighed. “Well, that might be the case, after all. By the way, do you think we should call Hanejima Yuuhei-san about this?”

_“Ah, that. Celty suggested it, as well, but I’m not sure. Shizuo-kun is always so excitable when it comes to his brother, so I can’t help but think that he’d prefer that we not do anything unnecessary.”_

“Wouldn’t his brother want to know, anyway? He has the right, and I can guarantee that if we asked Shizu-chan about it now, he’d go so far as to want to meet his dear little brother.”

_“You think so?”_

“Sure. He’s quite the sensitive type, after all.”

“Who’s sensitive?” Izaya turned, surprised, as Shizuo emerged from the bedroom with an irritated look on his face.

“Who else but the twenty-something man who wanted his sworn enemy to stay with him ‘just for a little while’ because he couldn’t stand to sleep alone in his own house? And let’s not forget your little speech from before, either. Given all that, ‘sensitive’ probably doesn’t even begin to do you justice, Shizu-chan.”

The blonde blushed and tried unsuccessfully to take the informant’s cell phone from him. “Don’t say shit like that where others might hear it!”

_“Shizuo-kun…? How is he walking around after getting that sick?!”_

Izaya pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I think I’m getting a migraine or something. He’s such a kid, but let’s not forget that he’s also a monster. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that he can still stand after all that…”

_“Well, make him sit down! And give him the phone, too.”_

“Yes, your majesty,” Izaya said irritably as he took Shizuo by the hand and pulled him into a chair. “Here,” he said simply as he held the phone out to the startled blonde.

“Um, Shinra-san?” Shizuo guessed as he held the device up to his ear.

_“Just Shinra is fine, you know. We’ve known each other since we were kids, after all.”_

“Really?” Shizuo said, a new note of surprise in his voice. “…I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell at all when I met you before. Um, so – Shinra, then. Did you want to talk to me about something?”

_“There’s nothing in particular. I just wanted to know how you’re feeling after getting some sleep.”_

Shizuo glared at Izaya. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep thanks to this jerk. He kept waking me up every couple of hours! It was damn annoying!”

“Like I said, Shizu-chan, that was something I had to do –”

But Shizuo made a point of ignoring him when Shinra started talking again. _“Ah, that. I’m sorry, but I asked Izaya-kun to make sure you were still doing alright.”_

“Ah… I guess it’s fine, then… Oh, my head’s fine, by the way. I’m sure I’ll be over this cold or whatever in no time, so don’t worry too much about that either.”

Izaya glared at Shizuo from across the room. “You obviously have something worse than the common cold, Shizu-chan,” he muttered. The blonde didn’t seem to have heard him, though, for he was again listening intently to the words of his friend on the phone.

“Thanks, I’ll do that. Also, Shinra?”

_“Yes?”_

“I do want to meet him. My brother, I mean.” The blonde was looking at Izaya now, his expression almost apologetic. “How soon would that be possible?”

_“Well, he_ is _an actor, so it’s hard to predict what his schedule might be on a given day… If it’s for you, though, he might come even if it means skipping work once.”_

“No, that’s – if he’s busy, I don’t want to cause him any problems.”

“You’re already causing _me_ loads of problems, though,” Izaya said as he strolled over and snatched the phone back from Shizuo. Speaking into the receiver, he added, “I’ll take care of it from here since it seems interesting, so you can just relax and play cards or something until you decide to drop by.”

Shinra had apparently decided to ignore the informant’s rudeness, but he nevertheless didn’t sound particularly happy as he responded, _“I guess that’s fine. But, Izaya-kun – please don’t try anything funny for now. Shizuo-kun doesn’t hold anything against you right now, so even you ought to know how unfair it would –”_

“I just said it, didn’t I? That you can relax. I’m not planning anything, so don’t worry.” And Izaya disconnected the call before the doctor could respond appropriately. Turning to Shizuo, he scrolled through his contact list until he was able to find the number he was looking for. “You still look like shit, Shizu-chan. How about you get back to bed so I can get on with calling that famous actor to come to his older brother’s rescue?”

“Shut up…” Shizuo retorted as expected, but something was clearly wrong. His eyes had lost some of their focus, and his breathing was suddenly strained. His hand went straight to his chest and he fell forward with a strangled shout of pain and surprise. Izaya ended his call mid-ring and rushed to the blonde’s side.

He forced Shizuo to sit upright on the floor and placed the back of his hand across the blonde’s forehead. “Honestly, what are you doing walking around with a fever this bad?!” he exclaimed.

“Ha… You sound like someone’s mom, you know…” Shizuo paused and looked down at his tightly clenched hands. “Sorry about this again.”

Izaya blinked down at the man whose full weight he was currently supporting. “Your protozoan intelligence is on a whole new level of idiocy, you know.”

Shizuo nodded stiffly but remained silent in the informant’s arms. The shorter man found that he could not quite make out the blonde’s eyes behind his tangled bangs, and that bothered him somewhat. He hated being in the dark about anything, after all, and he sensed that the atmosphere around them had suddenly grown tenser. “Ooooiiii, Shizu-chan,” he called softly as he waved a hand in front of the blonde’s face. “Say something – you’re creeping me out.”

Shizuo’s hands found purchase suddenly on the informant’s shirt and curled into fists. “Stop… spinning…” he managed at last. His head was bowed, and Izaya didn’t realize that the blonde was crying until he felt the warm droplets soaking through the thin fabric of his pants. “C-can’t…”

“What the hell…?” Izaya wondered aloud. “Are you having some kind of attack? Look, I’ll go call Shinra again.” When he tried to move away from the blonde, however, he found that he couldn’t loose himself from Shizuo’s firm grasp. “Let go. You’ll be fine.”

“Don’t… leave…” Shizuo’s grip tightened and he surprised Izaya by burying his face in the informant’s chest.

“…I’ll be right back, Shizu-chan.” The informant placed a hesitant hand on the other’s head and ruffled his hair as one might a child’s.

“You _won’t_ ,” the blonde insisted, his voice muffled. “I… you…”

“You what?” Izaya prompted out of curiosity.

“N-need. Izaya-san. With me…” Shizuo was shaking visibly now. Sweat was quickly soaking the fabric of his shirt, causing it to cling uncomfortably to his skin.

“Why?” Izaya demanded, too irritated by the blonde’s strange behavior to do or say anything else.

When Shizuo tried to answer, his breath caught in his throat and all that escaped him was a little moan.

“…Alright, I understand. Come on-” And Izaya pulled the blonde to his feet with a little grunt of exertion.

Shizuo’s eyes were red at the edges, and his nose was starting to run. “Stop… dizzy…” His expression was hazy and disoriented, but he tried nevertheless to take a few steps with Izaya supporting him. They somehow made it back to the bedroom, where Izaya gratefully let go of his burden.

“Don’t-” Shizuo started to protest, but Izaya cut him off.

“I’m staying right here, Shizu-chan. I guess we’ll just have to hope this blows over on its own.” Izaya mainly succeeded in convincing himself that his words and actions were based on a dawning curiosity and on the fact that he didn’t particularly want to amuse Shinra by calling him in a panic.

Shizuo smiled gratefully. The expression was more innocent and genuine than any other expression Izaya had ever seen on the face of his enemy. He felt his chest tighten and looked away hurriedly. “What, better already?” he asked.

“Thank you,” Shizuo responded without a hint of hesitation. Because he was, actually, suddenly fine again. “You were worried about me. It’s okay now, though. I’m okay.”

“Hmph. I don’t need that kind of reassurance from Shizu-chan, of all people.” But neither of them missed the slight relief in the informant’s voice. The reasons behind it were impossible for either to identify, but its presence was certainly detectable even if it was not plainly obvious.

 

~

 

About an hour later, the two were just sitting down to a late breakfast of white rice and tamagoyaki when the doorbell rang. They had both taken the opportunity to wash up and change their clothes, and Shizuo once again seemed to be doing fine.

“I’ll get it,” he said when Izaya made as if to answer it, and the informant accepted this without complaint.

Swinging the door to his apartment open, Shizuo was surprised to see a young man with brown hair and stylish clothing standing outside. He blinked. “Um…” Noticing the man’s sunglasses and the scarf with which he had been hiding part of his face, the blonde hastily formed a hypothesis. “Kasuka?” he said hopefully.

His brother nodded and silently offered Shizuo a convenience store bag.

Uncertain as to how to respond to this, Shizuo took the bag and offered a short bow in return. “Um, thank you very much. If you’d like, please come inside for a bit…”

Kasuka’s normally emotionless expression took on a touch of mild surprise. “Nii-san, you’re so formal today.”

“Ah – I am? S-sorry, some things happened and… well…” _How do I act around this person?_ Shizuo wanted to avoid worrying the younger man if he was still as oblivious to the blonde’s condition as everyone else seemed to be, but he also hoped that his brother could somehow shed some light on the details. “…I’m a little lost here,” he admitted at last.

“Amnesia?” Kasuka summarized, much to the other’s surprise. He looked Shizuo up and down once more, taking in the bruises and noticing the bandages that were still barely visible under his clothes. “Did you get into another fight?”

Shizuo nodded. “Yes, and… yes, I think. Do I do that a lot?” He felt that this question was too far from what he really wanted to ask, though, and quickly added, “Um, do you and I see each other often? How did you know to come by?”

Kasuka appeared to be vaguely amused by the blonde’s barrage of questions, and he took a moment to answer them one at a time. “You’ve been really strong since we were both little. A lot of people are scared of you, but I don’t think it’s really your fault. And, no, we don’t get many chances to talk. Don’t worry, though; it isn’t because we don’t get along.”

Kasuka’s voice lacked emphasis, but his words themselves weren’t unfriendly. Nothing about him was, in fact, and Shizuo found himself relaxing by degrees. “I stopped by because I happened to be nearby for some filming, and I heard some people talking about you. They said you’d been acting weird lately, and then I got that call that cut off before I could pick up…”

Shizuo accepted this last part with nothing more than surprise at the fact that he was well-known enough to be the subject of general gossip. “Ah, so… we haven’t spoken much recently, either?”

“No,” Kasuka said matter-of-factly, and Shizuo felt a little rush of disappointment because it meant that his brother probably knew nothing more than anyone else about his recent health. “Nii-san, you don’t look good.”

Shizuo raised his eyebrows. “R-really? I don’t feel too bad, though…”

Suspicion flashed across the younger brother’s face for just a moment, but in the next he was back to his usual composure as he pointed at the bag in Shizuo’s hand. “I brought you plenty of milk. Drink it and get better soon, okay?”

Shizuo smiled. “Thanks, Kasuka. Are you sure you don’t want to come inside for a while?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I left without telling anyone, so I should probably hurry back.”

_Ha… He really did skip work for this._ “I see… Then, maybe we can meet for coffee or something soon?”

Kasuka looked more than a little pleased to hear this. “Sure. I’ll call you when I get the chance.”

“Yeah… I’m free whenever. Also, could you tell me something? About Izaya-san, the man I’m always fighting with?”

To Shizuo’s surprise, Kasuka didn’t ask what, exactly, his older brother wanted to know. His response was simple and straightforward – maybe because the question had actually caught him a little off guard. “I don’t know a lot about everything that’s happened between you, but I _have_ wondered if there might be a little more to your relationship than pure violence.”

It was just a thought, of course – just something said on a whim by someone who didn’t know all the details, but Shizuo smiled anyway. “Thanks. That’s enough for now.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot may be creeping forward, but Shizuo's illness isn't so gentle. Shizuo and Izaya have a conversation after Kasuka's departure, and a sort of agreement is reached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably the shortest one I'll post; it just sort of worked out that way. I will update again by the end of the week, and the next chapter will move the plot forward considerably. Actually, the fic is nearing its end. :0

Returning to the table where Izaya was just finishing his meal, Shizuo sighed and let his exhaustion show just a little. “You were listening to that, weren’t you?”

Izaya smirked. “How could I not?” He leaned back in his chair and fixed his amber gaze on Shizuo. “So? Did he seem familiar to you?”

“No… Other than the feeling I got that he’s usually quieter than that. I was just lucky to have figured out it was him.” Shizuo laughed softly. “His expression barely changed the whole time, but it feels like he pretty was easy to talk to.”

“And?”

“…I don’t know. It’s like he and I are totally different personality-wise. It made me think... I mean, it bothers me that my own brother doesn’t seem any closer than the other people I’ve known for so long…”

“That’s what amnesia is, you know.” Izaya was looking increasingly irritated as he balanced his chair on its back legs and stared across the table at Shizuo.

“It’s different with you,” Shizuo said very quietly, and Izaya sighed at the non-sequitur.

“Look,” the informant said after a moment. He let the chair back down and stood up abruptly. “There’s a pretty good chance that your brother said what he did because he could tell that it’s what you wanted to hear. It doesn’t make what you’re talking about any less ridiculous, and it won’t matter in the end, anyway.”

Shizuo flinched backward as the informant approached him, and his hand automatically went to his chest. “Don’t…” he said breathlessly. “Don’t say that…”

Izaya stopped in front of the blonde and glared at him fiercely. “Oi, Shizu-chan, don’t go having another weird fit just because of something like this.”

“I-it isn’t because of th-that… It’ll pass i-in a second.”

“Just say that it hurts and tell me what you need!” Izaya snapped exasperatedly. “Did you think I couldn’t tell that you’ve been in pain this whole time? It comes and goes, but you still try to hide your discomfort. Right?”

Shizuo looked back at the informant with his eyes wide. “You could tell?” The ‘fine’ he had been feeling all along had, after all, been something relative. He remembered what ‘fine’ really felt like, and it wasn’t this. The pain in his chest, the way he couldn’t take a full breath or coordinate his movements because his muscles felt so heavy…

“You’re no weakling, Shizu-chan, but you really suck at acting,” Izaya sighed. _Though it helps that I make my living by figuring out when I’m being lied to… and by lying to others._

“O-okay.” The blonde shuddered and let his companion guide him to his knees. “Y-yeah, it hurts. My stomach…” He didn’t get another word out before Izaya dragged him to his feet again and draped one of his arms over his shoulders.

“Walk,” he ordered, and Shizuo obeyed. The blonde soon found himself doubled over the toilet in the bathroom, and his stomach only gradually calmed down enough for him to move back to lean against the wall.

“Izaya-san, a favor…” he said in a small voice.

“What now?” Izaya snapped.

Shizuo blushed and shifted his gaze so that he was looking intently at the floor beside him. “Hold me…?”

Izaya stared incredulously. “… _Hold_ you?”

“Mm…” Shizuo affirmed.

The informant snorted, laughed. “Anything for Shizu-chan,” as he snuggled up beside the blonde and wrapped his arms around him.

Shizuo whimpered and leaned into the embrace. “I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly.

Another moment passed in silence as Izaya felt his companion jerk at every new rush of pain. “You’re really shaking… Are you cold?”

“N-no, I – ”

“Shizu-chan. I’m allowing you to stay this disgustingly close to me, so the least you can do is tell me exactly what the hell your problem is.”

“But you’re the one who said it’s troublesome,” the blonde complained.

“Why does troubling others scare you so much? Don’t take everything so seriously all the time! Look,” Izaya said as he stared past the blonde at something that was beyond his ability to see, “I don’t particularly care about your problems, but since we’re in this situation, you might as well say whatever comes to mind.”

“I can’t…” Shizuo said as his vision blurred and a new wave of pain slammed into him. He felt warm liquid on his cheeks and tried to quell the embarrassment that came with it. “Ugh…”

“There you go again, making that pathetic face. You’re way too old to be crying like this, you know,” Izaya scolded gently.

He frowned. His words didn’t match his usual way of talking, yet still they flowed out of him with little thought or effort. It was as though everything he did or said was a lie only on the surface. But to think that Shizuo could be so cute and defenseless, could make him want to act without a plan.

The informant watched as the blonde hiccupped a little and tried to hold back the sobs that were beginning to shake his whole body. “I can’t ask too much from everyone when I can’t even remember them. It’s just… it hurts so damn much, and I guess… I’m scared. There’s no way pain like this can come from a normal fever. And making you do all this is probably going to make you hate me… I don’t want that…”

“I _already_ hate you, Shizu-chan.”

“You don’t act like it…” Shizuo muttered.

Izaya felt anger tugging at his usual composure. “I’m just trying to get you back to normal. It’ll be a problem for me if you don’t get your memories back at some point.” Still, he wasn’t sure he knew _why_ it was a problem – or, for that matter, why Shizuo’s accusation angered him in the first place.

Shizuo sighed forlornly. “I know I don’t really have any choice, but I’m a little afraid of getting them back. You’re already keeping your distance from me, so I guess you’ll really disappear the second I remember everything…”

“Of course I will! This whole thing is an incredible pain, after all,” Izaya answered immediately. Shizuo, however, didn’t say anything in return, and the informant felt that he should do something about the suddenly sad expression on the blonde’s face. So, he asked more gently, “Why me, anyway?” _You keep going on about it, so you must have a reason…_

“How should I know? You sort of piss me off, but there’s a little more to it than that… I think you understand people pretty well, but it’s like you’ve cut yourself off from them, and that’s so lonely I don’t think I can even begin to compare it to how I feel right now. I guess it’d be nice if you could open up a little, and I think we might actually be able to understand each other.”

Shizuo grinned a little, and Izaya was again shocked at how the blonde’s whole face lit up with the expression. This one was shy and a little apologetic, but no less genuine than the grateful, wondering smile that had graced his face before.

Izaya felt his heart flutter a little in his chest, and he loathed himself for it. “Haha… So now I’m the one being helped?”

“…I’m sorry if I misunderstood you. I just can’t help but wonder if I’ve felt this way about you for a really long time.”

“If you have, I guess you’re really an incurable idiot. And although it will definitely be worthwhile to see your reactions after you remember, I can’t say that I have any vested interest in the love of a monster like Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo cringed a little – whether it was because of Izaya’s harsh words or because of the physical pain, the informant couldn’t be sure. “Would… would you change your mind if I felt the same way after remembering?”

Izaya laughed. “You really are something, Shizu-chan. I almost prefer you like this. Fine – if you can honestly say that you feel the same devotion when you’re back to normal, I may take more of an interest in you. But it won’t be the same as loving you.”

Shizuo seemed to have recovered somewhat from his earlier discomfort. He looked Izaya confidently in the eyes and nodded. “I’ll make it the same,” he insisted before his body went limp with exhaustion.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream, a revelation, and a promise under the guise of a bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the tags, you've probably been waiting for this revelation. If you read a lot of amnesia fics, you've probably been waiting for a chapter to open with a dream. It was just too hard to resist. The next chapter will most likely be the last, and thanks for reading!

_Light. Blinding. Red. Red light, like blood – flashing. Overpowering. Dark. Bright. Dark._

_Stop._

_A scream, keening and sharp as broken glass. An impact, jarring. Feet on pavement. Slap. Slap. Slap. Crash._

_Crack! Pain. Metal. Cold, like rain. Hot, like summer. Pavement. Pain. Yelling. Running. Sirens. Pain. Pain. Pain._

_Stop._

_Shouting. Laughter. Rage. No thought, no control. Regret. Disgust. Loneliness. Despair._

_Monster._

_How many people have you hurt?_

_Why do you stay by my side?_

_We’re all humans here._

_I don’t like violence._

_You’re the very embodiment of violence._

_Shizu-chan._

_You’re special._

_Ah, that’s it._

_Find it. Acceptance. Love. Friends. Protect it. Control it._

_You’ll fail._

_Laughter, jeering. Betrayed. But by whom?_

_By what?_

_Why is everything such a pain?_

_Why won’t you all just leave me alone?_

_So fragile._

_Stop._

_So weak._

_Why bother trying?_

_She’s the same as I am._

_Why does everyone compare us?_

_I owe them all so much…_

_Thanks. I’ll do my best._

_Friends or no, it’ll always be the same._

_Look, see how quickly you ruin things._

_They didn’t know what they were getting themselves into._

_Stop._

_How did it come to this?_

_Dammit._

_Damn…_

_Isn’t there anything I can…_

_Stop…_

_Monster._

_Die like one. It’s the least you can do._

_Hide it till the very end._

_Stop…_

_I don’t want this…_

_Hah… who would?_

_So don’t make them deal with the repercussions._

_St-stop…_

 

“Stop!” Shizuo lurched forward, eyes wide and staring. His head was throbbing uncontrollably, and he was drenched in a cold sweat.

“Shizu-chan?” Izaya was standing by the door with a bowl of something - _Soup?_ \- in his hands. Shizuo couldn’t make sense of the concern in the informant’s eyes. Was it real? Was it more of the flea’s deception? Or a fragment of his dream still clinging to him in consciousness?

“F-flea,” he rasped. It felt like there was a block of wood lodged in his throat. His stomach twisted inside of him, and he found himself bent over the covers, gagging and retching until the pain radiating up from his bullet wounds overpowered even that discomfort.

Izaya’s hand was on his shoulder, guiding him back onto a virtual mountain of pillows. The informant gazed searchingly into Shizuo’s eyes, his expression unreadable. “You remember?” was all he said.

Shizuo blinked back tears. “I… sort of… but it’s… mixed up… full of gaps…” He cringed at the sound of his own voice. So much rougher than he remembered, so full of hesitation.

“Ah… So, I guess nothing’s changed, then? Damn – and here I was thinking you’d come to your senses.”

The blonde laughed weakly. “No… but… I get it… You’re dangerous… not a good person… t-to say the least.” He shivered and looked down at his hands. “I can’t help… wanting to try.”

Izaya sighed. “Right, well, I’m sure you’ll get over it soon. Here’s some soup for your throat. I found it the kitchen, so I’m assuming it’s something you like.”

“I bought this… when it started,” Shizuo said softly.

“When what started?” Izaya asked cautiously. Something in the blonde’s expression made his stomach churn with anxiety. _Why?_

“No-nothing. It smells great, thanks… But… isn’t this unlike you?”

The informant was slightly startled by the sudden, incredibly direct question. “You only just realized that, huh?” He wanted to say something more to reassure himself and his companion of his unwavering hatred for the blonde, but he somehow felt too drained to elaborate any further. Shizuo smiled as if he knew exactly what Izaya was feeling, and that, for some reason, really upset the informant. It wasn’t like that, not at all.

Shizuo’s smile, though faint and a little strained, nevertheless remained as he slid over to make room for Izaya and then began to slowly eat the warm food. He was wary of the pain in his stomach, but he finished the whole bowl despite that. He wanted to please the informant, and he knew also that his body sorely needed whatever nutrition he could give it.

The blonde then struggled to his feet with the intention of carrying the empty dishes into the kitchen. Izaya caught him when he inevitably collapsed. “You never learn, do you?” the informant muttered with an exasperated shake of his head. “You’ve obviously gotten a lot worse, so what makes you think you can move around so freely?”

Because I don’t want to believe what I saw in that dream. Because I’m afraid I’ll get used to things being like this. Because I keep thinking it’ll just go away.

Because I want you to have to catch me.

“Because… Because…” What could he say? His body hurt so much that his mind was clouded, and his pride wouldn’t let him make too much more of a fool of himself than he already had. He couldn’t say anything about his illness. He wasn’t clear on the details, but he vaguely remembered the urgent need to keep everyone around him in the dark. He’d seen that, too.

The pain in his head grew suddenly worse, and the room started to shift and sway around him. He felt like he was falling, like he was drowning in the suddenly dense air, and his hands searched blindly for Izaya’s support. He found it, but the buzzing sound he thought he heard drew that presence away from him. He might have cried out, but he couldn’t be sure, not with this loud roaring in his ears. Was he hearing the beating of his own heart? Or was it the sound of running feet?

He heard two familiar voices calling him through a thick fog, but his voice was lost in the vast expanse of black, and it didn’t reach them.

_Help,_ he wanted to cry. _I’m afraid to sleep…_

~

 

“I don’t know… He said something weird earlier, though.”

Shizuo kept his eyes closed when he heard Izaya’s voice. Half of him was hesitant to face the informant after everything that had happened, while the other half wanted to know how much he knew of the situation. He heard a second person moving around nearby and assumed that it was Shinra; Izaya’s next words verified that and then struck dread in the pit of Shizuo’s stomach.

 “Ne, Shinra… It’s really serious, isn’t it?” The informant’s voice was different, Shizuo realized. It wasn’t as light, as carefree or as teasing as it usually was. This voice definitely belonged to Orihara Izaya, but the words had lost their edge and were now weighted down with something bordering on concern.

Funny, how much more he noticed when he had memories to look back on.

The doctor sighed heavily. “I don’t have the equipment I’d need to run conclusive tests, but… well, _look_ at him. His injuries aren’t infected, and he wasn’t this sick two days ago. I’m not saying it’s impossible for him to have contracted something while recovering, but it’s likelier that-”

“That he’s been sick for a long time,” Izaya finished for Shinra.

“Yes. Oh, but don’t start jumping to any conclusions just yet. He’s sick now, but we have no reason to assume that he’ll die. Shizuo-kun is unusually tough, and all…”

Shizuo mentally cringed at this, and he inadvertently opened his eyes just enough that Izaya noticed. “Shizu-chan,” he called immediately, and the blonde blinked in an attempt to clear his blurred vision.

“Yo…” he said softly to the shadowy figures of his friends. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Izaya narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and Shizuo was gradually able to see this expression as his eyes grew more focused. “So, how long have you been listening?”

“O-oh. You could tell?” Shizuo looked around at his bedroom and tried to control the melancholy that was rising up within him.

“Of course,” Izaya replied. He watched the blonde’s expression for a brief moment before asking the question Shizuo had hoped to avoid. “You’ve obviously remembered at least a little more… So, what’s wrong with your body? You’ve already been to a hospital, haven’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” Shizuo responded without thinking. He paused for a moment, then started, “By the way-”

“Don’t bother trying that now,” Shinra interrupted. “You can change the subject as much as you want, but that will only make it more obvious that you know something. Besides, we can change it back as many times as it takes.” The doctor’s arms were crossed on his chest, and his eyes were obscured by the light that was reflecting off the lenses of his glasses.

Shizuo closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. His throat felt better, at least. That was good – he’d have to be able to talk himself out of this one. “It’s not as big a deal as you seem to think. I don’t remember complicated shit like what the virus is called or whatever, but a couple more pills’ll fix me right up.” He smiled as convincingly as he could, unaware of how strained it looked on his pale face.

Izaya nodded skeptically. “Right,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Then, can you tell us where you left those pills? You have some already, didn’t you?”

Shizuo faltered a little. “It…it’s already gone. I was going to get the prescription filled again, but I was attacked… You know the rest.” His explanation was lame, he knew, but he couldn’t work up enough creativity to make it any more believable.

Shinra shook his head. Neither he nor Izaya was falling for this. “Alright, then what’s the name of the doctor who wrote the prescription? Or the hospital you visited? Also, are you sure you can’t remember the name of the illness?”

The blonde _tsk_ ’d softly under his breath and opened his eyes again. “I’m…” He hesitated, looked up at Izaya and Shinra and wondered if it was really too late to lie any more. He shivered a little and realized that he was freezing cold underneath all the covers on his bed. “I’m dying,” he said at last. The words sounded tinny to his ears. His voice was too small for the big room, too far away even from himself.

“Why do you say that?” Shinra asked gently after a long stretch of uncomfortable silence.

Shizuo shook his head weakly from side to side. “I remember,” was all he said in response. He didn’t trust himself to say much more than that. He could feel raw emotion seeping into his every breath, and the pressure in the back of his throat warned of tears. He wasn’t about to show his crying face to Izaya yet again, and definitely not to Shinra.

“We need a little more than that, Shizu-chan,” Izaya whispered, and Shizuo was surprised to hear that same raw emotion and pressure just barely present in the informant’s voice. “I haven’t heard anything about this,” he added, more to himself than to either of his companions.

“We don’t have to do this, right?” Shizuo questioned desperately. “Knowing won’t change anything for you, or… or for me.” His body felt heavy, too heavy.

“You owe it to _me_ , at least,” Izaya insisted. Like hell was he going to let this idiot run away from him now, of all times. It was too late… _way_ too late for that, as infuriating as that reality was.

Shizuo nodded reluctantly. He had to admit that he did owe Izaya that much – and a lot more. He’d regret forcing his problems on others, but he had no chance at fooling anyone with more lies. So he explained, “Terminal cancer. I might have one or two months left, if I’m lucky.” His controlled his voice carefully, so it sounded as blunt and detached as if he were talking about a stranger.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone when you first found out?” Shinra asked quietly. _Something like that must have been an incredible burden to carry alone…_

“Isn’t that obvious?” Shizuo said gruffly. “I’ll die no matter what, so why make anyone around me suffer for it, too?”

“You’re right,” Izaya responded abruptly, his arms crossed on his chest in a classic display of anger. “And I suppose you let yourself be attacked like that because dying that way would be _so_ much preferable to dying of an incurable disease, right? Ha – too bad that plan blew up in your face!”

Shizuo’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I’m saying that, because you were careless enough to lose your memories and reveal your condition to so many people, you can’t get away with telling your friends that you’re totally fine anymore. If you really intend to do right by them, your only remaining option is to fight until the bitter end.”

“I can’t fight. I can’t even walk,” Shizuo said softly. The look in Izaya’s eyes made him uncomfortable. When had the informant decided to care this much? It made him happy, sure, but the futility of it all filled him with an equal amount of despair.

Izaya ignored the blonde’s words, however, and continued, “I’ve already called Namie-san to come get us so we can take you to the hospital. You can call your brother yourself when we get there.”

“Stop it,” Shizuo hissed. “Don’t you get it?! There’s no fucking point! I. Am. Dying. All the medicine in the world can only postpone that!”

“Izaya…” Shinra cautioned.

“No,” Izaya snapped back. “You know what, Shizu-chan? You said you wanted to get to know me more, didn’t you? You wanted me to care about you, right? Well, congratulations. It looks like I’ve gone and done something as ridiculous as falling for a monster, and I don’t feel like letting you die that easily.”

Shinra blinked, opened his mouth to say something, but could think of nothing to adequately convey his surprise. He turned to look at Shizuo and was surprised to see angry tears sparkling at the corners of the blonde’s eyes.

 “It doesn’t matter,” Shizuo growled. “Don’t expect me to play along with a joke like that, flea…”

Izaya sighed. “I’m not kidding, Shizu-chan. Ne, how about we make a little wager? The conditions are that you do as I say and let me support you alongside everyone else. If you die, fine. That just means you were right, and I can at least promise that I won’t forget you for as long as I live.” The informant felt a little like laughing as he said this. After all, it would be impossible for anyone to forget Ikebukuro’s fortissimo. Even more so for Izaya, who had somehow been dragged into such an unlikely relationship – one which he somehow couldn’t bear the thought of cutting short.

“And?” Shizuo demanded.

“If you live, you have to stay by my side for as long as I want you there,” Izaya murmured, his voice like velvet.

The blonde snorted a little. “A week? A month? That’s not quite what I had in mind, you know – not that I should have expected anything else from someone like you…” His eyes were sad, though, and he looked like he was about to accept Izaya’s offer despite his reservations.

“It’s regrettable, but I wouldn’t make an offer like this on the basis of simple curiosity,” Izaya said, and his voice was devoid of humor. He hated Shizuo now more than ever; he hated the way the blonde’s suffering felt like his own, hated the part of himself that needed to protect the weakened bodyguard. He wasn’t supposed to be capable of loving one person in this way. He didn’t want to feel any love that was more potent than the obsessive love he felt for humans, and he didn’t want to think of Shizuo as a kind person – as anything other than a violent monster.

“Why?” Shizuo asked as the crunch of car tires on gravel reached the three of them from outside.

Izaya shook his head as if to clear it of unwanted thoughts. “I don’t like not knowing things. I need to see Shizu-chan making all kinds of expressions, doing all kinds of things, and I especially need to find out what about you is so…” he strolled toward the door to the bedroom, pausing briefly before disappearing into the hallway to mutter, “…so human, and so lovable.”

Shizuo felt his face grow hot as the informant answered the door to the apartment. “Dammit… How can that bastard stand to say shit like that in front of other people?” Shinra laughed lightly in spite of himself when he heard this. That was the Shizuo he knew; Izaya’s words, however ridiculous they had sounded coming from a heartless informant, had brought some life back to the blonde’s hopeless eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d always had an interest in gambling, but this was the first time he’d made a bet he couldn’t win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of this entire story, I am proudest of this last chapter. Thanks for reading!

Days passed. Shizuo was admitted to the hospital with few questions asked, and a seemingly endless cycle of people came to visit and encourage him. He underwent surgery first, but the doctors insisted that even this was sure to do more harm than good in the long run.

“You here to play the part of shinigami?” the blonde joked when Celty came to visit for the first time.

The dullahan was unamused by her friend’s reference to the old Irish legends, and she wrote (on a notepad, for she had decided to honor the hospital’s no-electronics rule), _I hope not. Are you doing better?_ She knew the answer already, of course, but there wasn’t much else for her to say in that situation. She had always had a habit of skipping straight to the main issues in a conversation, though this time she regretted it as soon as Shizuo read it.

“No,” the blonde sighed, but he didn’t appear to blame Celty at all. The dullahan noticed then how much weight her friend had lost in such a short period of time. He looked frailer than she ever would have thought possible.

_You can’t give up._

“Yeah. I mean, it isn’t like I _want_ to die.” The blonde sank back into the pillows of his hospital bed and threw his arm over his eyes. A thin tube ran from the crook of his arm up to a metal stand, adding to the strange quality of the scene. Shizuo, in a place like that… “I’m still 24,” he added softly. This simple statement cut at Celty, made her want to reach out and embrace the man in front of her. It wasn’t right.

_You have to believe you’ll make it,_ she wrote in a desperate attempt to distract him from his morbid thoughts.

Shizuo moved his arm away again and read this message. “Sure. Thanks, Celty.” His response was half-hearted, though. An obvious lie. Celty shook her head and showed him another message.

_He’s changed a lot because of you, you know. Remember that, and trust him._

The blonde’s lips jerked upward at one corner in a crooked sort of smile, and his eyes lit up slightly as he murmured, “He should mind his own business. The jerk never shuts up.”

Celty nodded, her helmet completing the action for her. Anyone could have seen through Shizuo’s show of aloofness; beneath it was genuine gratitude and affection for the informant. The dullahan was tempted to ask her friend about the origin of those feelings, but she was interrupted by a familiar voice at the door.

“Good morning~! Shizu-chan, do you feel better today?” Izaya called cheerfully as he found a chair and made himself comfortable beside the blonde.

“You’re here early,” Shizuo responded sardonically.

“That’s so cruel, Shizu-chan! You almost sound like you aren’t happy to see me!” the informant protested. Celty noted that his usual manner actually hadn’t changed considerably, although the edge of provocation had disappeared from his ultra-casual speech. Izaya was, she figured, still Izaya, but she could see the little changes starting to become apparent.

_You seem to be getting along well,_ Celty typed conversationally.

“As if!” came the simultaneous response, which prompted the dullahan to shake with silent laughter.

_See?_

Shizuo sighed. “Right…” He closed his eyes briefly, then turned his full attention over to Izaya. “So, did you… talk to the doctors about…?”

Izaya’s expression suddenly became incredible somber. “Yeah. They don’t want to do it at all, but the chance of success is still somewhere around two percent. It’s something, anyway, so I insisted rather strongly” – the informant forced an apologetic smile – “and we might even start today.”

The blonde’s eyes widened. “Today?! Oi, flea, I’m gonna need more time to –”

“To what, Shizu-chan? To get worse? I already promised I’d stay right here once it started, so you’re not allowed to complain.”

Celty watched this exchange with a dawning sense of realization. And, then, of dread.

_You’re talking about chemotherapy, aren’t you?_ It wasn’t something she could altogether understand, as a being invulnerable to disease, but she had seen enough television dramas, commercials, and documentaries to know that this was one of the most dreaded parts of cancer treatment.

“That, and radiation. The full course… Better hope my injuries don’t get infected, huh?” Shizuo affirmed with forced jocundity.

_I’m sorry,_ was all Celty could think to write in response.

“It’s not your fault, Celty,” Shizuo insisted, his voice just a tad hushed – perhaps by fear. “It’s the only remaining option, I guess. Not that surprising.”

Izaya shook his head disapprovingly. “I don’t think she’ll mind if you show a little more emotion, Shizu-chan.”

“What do you want me to do?” the blonde asked irritably. He turned to Celty, his smile now a little more heartfelt. “It’s really enough that you came by. I’ll do my best here, so don’t worry about it, alright?”

The dullahan felt a little like crying. Her friend recognized and appreciated her concern. He was doing his best to alleviate it for her, and he refused to give up despite his strong doubts because he _had_ to keep trying. Not really for his own sake, but for the sake of his friends’ happiness.

It was so incredibly kind, and so, so incredibly unfair.

_You’ve always worried about others,_ she wrote, her handwriting slanted with emotion. It might as well have been accentuated by tearstains.

Izaya nodded to himself. He thought maybe he had Shizuo figured out this time; that, sure, maybe he was scared for his own sake, but that what really made things hard for the blonde was his overwhelming desire to leave as few emotional scars on the people around him as possible. A vicious circle, so to speak, because the more he fought, the harder it became and the more he felt like giving up. And the more he felt like giving up, the more he had to pretend that he was doing okay.

But that only made it harder. Hard enough that, if he didn’t find a release somewhere, something would really break inside of him.

Shizuo, unaware of Izaya’s ruminations, blushed a little and grinned – embarrassed by what he deemed a compliment. “I don’t know…”

Celty, heartened by the response she had received, reigned in her motions a bit and then asked, _Should I stay?_

Shizuo shook his head. “Thanks. Really. But, I’d rather not be seen like that… y’know?” It was a more honest response than anyone had expected. A sign of trust – something very valuable, Celty knew.

She nodded her understanding and tore one more sheet of paper out of the notepad as she stood to leave. Shizuo smiled when he saw what she had written, and Izaya looked faintly surprised.

The little scrap of paper read, _Don’t push yourself too hard_.

_Hoooh, so I’m not the only one who can see right through him these days_ , Izaya thought to himself as the dullahan slipped soundlessly out of the room.

 

~

 

And still time wore on. One week and then another, and each day much the same as the last. It wasn’t long before Shizuo could barely raise his head up from the pillows, and he spent most of his time in a hazy state of drug-induced semi-consciousness. What little time he did pass in more or less complete awareness he was forced to waste away throwing up nearly everything he tried to ingest.

“I’m trying,” he insisted to the few close friends and family that he could still be allowed to see. “I won’t give up.” But the promises sounded emptier and emptier as the doctors started warning visitors about probable deadlines. The days left in the countdown to an inevitable climax.

And so the visits became less frequent. It was probably that no one could handle seeing Shizuo in that state. There was none of that old vitality left in him; he was a ghost, a shadow. His smiles were the apologies he felt too tired to voice. The strength for which he had once been so well-known had abandoned him, leaving him completely dependent on the help of others. And that, coupled with the near-constant pain, with the discernible wisps of conversations in the hallway just outside, only made everything harder on him.

His morale was crumbling, but he did his best to hide it, to bear with it.

It was too cruel.

Shizuo continued to rely on Izaya more than anyone else. The informant offered himself to the blonde, promised to see things through. He didn’t need Shizuo to worry about him, he insisted, because he was just that resilient. Shizuo didn’t fully believe him, of course, and so he tried to keep his distance – until even that became impossible, and he took from Izaya all that he could hold on to. He shed countless tears where only Izaya could wipe them away and insist that they were unnecessary. Such pointless assurances were all anyone could really offer, for to call death’s name when he was already so near was to invite him in.

It was Izaya’s presence that reassured everyone who worried about Shizuo. He had somehow become the one person with whom Shizuo would share his burdens; before Izaya, the blonde didn’t have to pretend. Most everyone realized this somewhere along the line and began to quietly leave the two alone. As regrettable as it may have been, all they could hope to offer now was the peace of mind that came with not having to pretend any more. Shizuo understood this, their heartfelt concern for him, and was grateful. He didn’t need proof.

He didn’t want to be remembered this way.

And the time came when the doctor in charge of Shizuo’s case finally pulled Izaya aside and told him exactly what the informant had expected to hear. Exactly what everyone had been hearing for several weeks now. There simply wasn’t any time left, no more hours left to fill with unheeded predictions and warnings. The bet was up, and Izaya had lost.

He’d always had an interest in gambling, but this was the first time he’d made a bet he couldn’t win.

“I’m sorry, but” – then came the clichéd words of an actor in a drama – “there’s just nothing more we can do for him. His life has already been prolonged far beyond the point where most patients would have given up. It’s regrettable, but it does at the very least mean an end to the pain.”

Nothing more we can do for him. No more injections, dripping chemicals and throwing up. No more holding his hand and insisting that the light at the end of the tunnel is just a little far away right now. No more demanding more of science than it’s capable of offering.

The informant frowned, numbed by the man’s words, numbed by this inexplicable sensation. It was as if the floor was no longer solid beneath him – another cliché, he thought wryly, and yet that too was oddly unamusing. “Can’t you do _something_? A transplant, more surgery… something? Money’s not an object, and he can take my blood or whatever if that’s what he needs.” His voice was far away, his words not his own. There was a monster inside of him, feeding on his reason and leaving him with nothing but scattered emotions and meaningless words. Sometimes, impossible was simply nothing more than impossible. No magical solutions or towering compromises with God or Death.

He’d invested so much time and emotion in Shizuo, gotten impossibly attached to him. He’d lost interest in his work – fully abandoned it, at this point. What could he do, as unprepared as he was to deal with a fall from this precipice?

“I’m sorry.”

Izaya shook himself back into the world of social drudgery, neutralized his expression and bowed politely as he turned to reenter Shizuo’s room. “I understand. Thank you for all you’ve done,” he murmured to the unexceptional, faceless man behind him.

And he heard the same two words again, this time from the bed in front of him, from the lips of his fallen monster. “I’m sorry.”

“I bet you are,” Izaya said somewhat bitterly as the door swung shut behind him. _How unusual, for you to be awake like this…_ “It’ll be all over for you, and I’ll suffer alone. It’s quite the joke, but somehow I don’t feel much like laughing.”

“Izaya,” Shizuo said softly. His voice had been worn down by the hungry disease, but it somehow still retained a bit of its old velvet. “I know. I told you this would happen.”

“You also told me you…”

_No,_ Izaya realized. _No, he never once told me he loved me._

“…you…” Had it been implied? Had it always been that way? Had that word, that thought, that concept and emotion always preyed on him like this?

Why wouldn’t it go away? Had he not meant for it to go away? Had he not just been a bit curious, a bit stupid?

He couldn’t remember any more, had stopped really thinking about it.

“…you…needed me…” Had he misunderstood? Had a Shizuo with memories intact already given up on loving the flea just as he had given up on life?

Dammit. He wanted Heiwajima Shizuo to remember him, to love him, even in death. It was the least the jerk could do, because Izaya would never return to the way he had been before. It wasn’t fair.

Shizuo smiled weakly. He sort of knew what the informant was thinking, maybe because death was so close and he already felt like he was slipping into a different reality – one where the usual boundaries didn’t apply any longer, one where he and the flea really could understand each other. Just like he’d wanted all along.

He was fading fast, the pain was disappearing, but he still had things he needed to do and say. So, he closed his eyes and said, so quietly that Izaya almost missed it, “I love you.”

Izaya blinked in surprise. “Shizu-chan…”

Shizuo opened his eyes again, and the hopelessness and deep melancholy was gone from them at last. “I don’t regret it. I’m glad you were the one who found me back then, in that alley. But I know you, flea” – he smiled, moved his hand so that it rested on top of Izaya’s – “and I figure you’ll regret everything and be unhappy.”

“I already regret it, idiot,” Izaya whispered. Shizuo’s lips parted as he prepared to say something else, but Izaya interrupted him. “Stop it, Shizu-chan. If you talk any more, you’ll really…” But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. That terrible reality was close enough to touch.

“Doesn’t matter. Promise me something.”

“What.” It wasn’t a question; the blonde’s intentions were painfully easy to see through. Izaya had been the one on whom Shizuo had placed all his burdens. The informant had said over and over again that it was okay, that it was what he wanted. _And still, you try to save even me – right up to the very end. That’s so selfish, Shizu-chan. You can’t have everything, you know…_

All that was left was to repeat the necessary lines.

“Stay here, in this room, with me… just for a little while.”

“J-just until you fall asleep, ne?”

Shizuo smiled, nodded. “And when I do, you get your sorry ass out of Ikebukuro. For –”

“Forget about all of this… right?” Izaya finished for him, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Shizu-chan, I – ”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to say it,” Shizuo said softly. “One more thing – you aren’t allowed to cry, okay? That’d be… really…” The blonde’s eyes fell shut, and his breathing faltered. “…really creepy…”

_Please move on with everyone else… Izaya…_

The rest was just a panorama of clichéd sights, sounds, and sensations, all blurring together to create a nightmare that would wake Izaya many times in the future. He heard the monotonous beeping of the flatlining heart monitor, felt Shizuo’s limp hand in his own and heard the doctors call the time as rain hammered the windows of the cold hospital room.

Shizuo, pale and lifeless, his face peaceful and free of the pain he’d been wracked with for so long. The room’s pale blue curtains, shivering in a breeze that no one seemed to feel. The floor at Izaya’s feet as he left the hospital, shining and burning his nostrils with its strong disinfectant smell. The harsh slap of his feet on wet pavement, the heaviness of his drenched clothes and the way they stuck to his skin.

That nightmare started for Izaya the moment Shizuo fell into a dream without end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, yes - the end! I'll be honest; I did start writing a sequel to this in my little purple notebook. I just don't know if I'll post it, because this is clearly a complete story. Anything additional would sort of belabor the point, right? So, I hesitate. If I do wind up posting it for the sheer fun of it, though, please do feel free to just stop here. If you want angst, this is your story. If you want fluff, then, yeah - that sequel is fluffy. You can imagine what sort of plot it must have. (You will probably be a tad off, but no matter.)


End file.
